Page 50 of When In Doubt

“He was a customer.”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat.” I match her stance, bracing my own hands on my hips.

“I’m well aware! Or did you think I didn’t notice?”

“That’s not⁠—”

“I’m not some helpless child,” she seethes. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

“I know you are. But you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I know exactly how I deserve to be treated,” she mutters, giving me her back. I hate it. I want her looking at me, even if she’s pissed off, even when we’re fighting.

Shit. She’s right. That guy was an asshole, but I should have let her handle it. Instead I practically bared my teeth at a stranger like I was staking a claim.

She starts reorganizing the display of patterns, her shoulders tight as I approach. “Freya.” I keep my voice gentle. “I’m sorry for overstepping.”

The fight bleeds out of her. When she turns I see the tension in her jaw, the glaze in her eyes that looks like… fear. What the hell? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” she rushes out.

“It’s alright.”

“No.” She shakes her head frantically. “It’s not, you’ve come here to help me. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“Hey, hey.” I take hold of her elbows. It’s like she’s not quite here anymore. I want to keep her with me, keep her in this moment. “It’s not a problem, you’re allowed to be mad at me when I fuck up.”

She looks utterly confused. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking right now, why she won’t let herself be upset with me.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, voice small.

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

It’s gradual, the way the fog in her eyes clears. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s pissing me off. I feel like someone’s done a real number on her. I want to find out who and exactly what they did, so I can go some way to start fixing it.

“Why don’t you sit down for a second, let me deal with that?” I ask Freya. The convention finished thirty minutes ago and we’re about halfway done with packing up. She’s looking at the pegboard like it called her a name as she tries to hide a yawn in her elbow.

“I’m all good.” She gives me a tired smile that doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s another four hours back to Cedar Creek and I don’t know if either of us are going to hold out that long.

I load yarn into the plastic bins, trying to keep them in some kind of order. “You know,” I start, trying to sound casual, “maybe we should crash here in the city, ride back tomorrow?”

She turns, teeth flashing as she chews her lip. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you want your own bed.”

She starts dismantling the pegboard, and I catch a second yawn. Okay. I need to change tactics.

“I’m actually pretty tired, I don’t know about the drive…” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she believes me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you out here for a super long day.” She takes two steps toward me, hands wringing. Fuck, that backfired.

“No, it’s okay,” I insist. “You didn’t drag me anywhere.”

“But I⁠—”

“It’s really no big deal. We’ll stay at a motel or something, head back tomorrow. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

Chapter Seventeen